Brain Vs Braun
by chibiness87
Summary: Why 80s TV is still important, even in the 21st C. Response to the I Love the 80's ficathon at Geekfiction. Small spoiler for 804, blink and you miss it. GSR.


** Brain vs. Braun** by **Chibiness87**

**Rating:** Um… T ( I think)

**Genre:** Humour/angst (splash of romance)

**Prompt:** Television

**Spoilers:** 503, 513, 521 (and although i wrote this before 804, there's now a small spoiler for that ep too.)

**Disclaimer:** Any recognised character or show in this story is not mine.

**A/N:** Thanks to butterfliedgsr for the beta.

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The door was locked. 

Of course the door was locked... it just added to the cliché of the moment.

He and Sara had responded to the call-out of a 419 in Henderson and had been processing the basement when the support that had been keeping the door open had failed, letting the door slide shut, locking the two of them in.

A cursory glance at both of their cell phones had proved what he had already suspected; no signal.

Clichés. Sometimes, he really hated them.

A small click made him turn around.

"Sara? What are you doing?" he asked, as he watched her poke through her kit.

"Well SOMEONE has to MacGyver our way out of here, and, no offence, but I don't see you jumping up and making an escape route out of a paperclip and a belt buckle."

"…You watched MacGyver?

"Yes, Griss. I watched MacGyver."

Seeing him raise an eyebrow in question, Sara continued, her attention split between the man behind her and her kit before her.

"You know when we had that case a couple of years ago with the kid who was basically being used as her brothers saviour, no matter what it meant for her to go through?"

"The Perez case. Yeah, I remember it."

"Yeah. You remember what you said to me when I was checking over her computer?"

"I said you were probably a pretty smart 7th grader," Grissom replied, a smile twitching around his mouth.

Sara nodded.

"Yeah. Well, you weren't wrong. I was pretty smart. Got in trouble for it too."

"How?"

She shrugged, glancing at him.

"Not paying attention in class, more often than not." Seeing his raised eyebrow, she elaborated. "It wasn't because the work was too hard… if anything it was because it was too easy, you know? I'd sit there at the back of the class, reading. Sometimes it was textbooks for other classes… sometimes it was novels. A couple of times I was sent out of class for drawing."

"Your harpooned whale?" Grissom asked, watching a small pile of objects grow at her feet as she pulled them out of the kit.

"That was a couple of years earlier… but yeah, same deal. Anyway, I got a bit of stick for apparently not paying attention in class but still coming out of the year with the highest GPA. The other kids thought I must have been cheating or something…"

"You weren't."

Sara smiled at the conviction in his voice.

"Nah. I had done the work. Hell, sometimes I did the work for the entire lesson in the first 10 minutes while the teacher was trying to settle everyone down. I would read to get a better grip of the world. If I didn't understand something, I would go look it up. I think I spent more time in the library at school than the rest of the class put together."

"Now why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Oh come on Griss… like you were any different."

Grissom smirked at her, nodding his head in acknowledgement.

"I used to think that being smart was a curse," Sara admitted, not looking at him.

Grissom went to interrupt her at that, but she held up her hand, holding him off.

"I know better now, but at the time I was just a kid, you know? Anyway. About a year after my father… I was in this group home for a while. And a couple of the older kids were watching this tiny TV we had back then. 7 kids, one TV… you can imagine the disagreements we had over that."

Grissom smiled, picturing a young Sara Sidle adamant about watching documentaries over the "usual" kids TV shows of the time.

"I came home from the library one day to see a couple of the older kids settled down watching this show. I had no idea what it was, but the main guy in it seemed to be kinda smart. I was entranced. I mean, here was a TV show about a smart guy, who used his brains instead of his fists… it was a new look on the world for me."

The slightly humorous air that had been surrounding them fell away, and Grissom let the small smile he'd been holding fall at those words. It was so easy to forget sometimes just what she had been though as a child, things that no-one should ever have to go through. Sara didn't look at him, knowing that if she did her mask would fall. Instead, she kept her attention on the pile next to her, sorting them out.

"Sara."

It amazed her, even now, just how much he could express in the two syllables of her name. She paused, but still kept her back to him. She didn't notice her hands tremble, but he did. Gently he reached round her, and pulled the tweezers from her grasp.

"Honey."

His voice had an undercurrent of pleading in it, and for once Sara gave in. Grissom pulled her upright, before tugging her into his arms. Her arms fell around him, taking his offered strength.

"You are one hell of a woman, Mrs. Grissom. And I love each and every part of you," he whispered in her ear.

Sara said nothing, just clung a little tighter to him. Getting her emotions back under control, she moved back slightly to kiss his cheek.

"Love you too. Now, how about we get out of here?"

He smiled at her, knowing their tender moment was over, and the CSI was back in control.

"Ok. So, what have you got?"

"Well. When I was printing the door, I noticed the lock was one of those catch ones. The thing that got me is the catch is on the house side of the door, not this side. I mean, to get out we need a key… not the other way around like you would expect. Might be probative."

"Could be. I'll have one of the others check it out when we get back to the lab."

"Ok. So, based on the position of the lock, I figured I'd just pick it. Which is where the paperclips and tweezers come in. One to hold the Barings in place, and one to fiddle to get the lock in position so we can turn it and let ourselves out… Why are you looking at me like that?!"

Grissom's amused look at the beginning of her idea had turned to one of slight alarm when he realised just how much she knew in the business of lock picking.

"Sorry… it's just… lock picking? Anything other talents I should know about, dear?"

"Not outside the bedroom… Gil? Did you just whimper?!"

"I… Um... Yes."

Sara couldn't help but give him a look that could only be described as "smutty" at his admission. Before she could say anything else, however, the door to the basement opened.

Startled, the both turned to look at the figure in the doorway.

"Hey, THERE you are! Guys, I've found them!"

Catherine shot curious glances over the two of them, pleased to see they appeared unhurt.

"You guys ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're fine, Cath."

"Good."

"So, not that we're not grateful for coming and letting us out and everything," Sara said, kneeling back down to re-pack her kit, "but why are you here?"

"Oh. Jim said he tried to call you to ask you to check up on something at the scene, but when he couldn't get through to either of you after the 3rd try he called us, and here we are."

"Ah. Well, thanks."

"Anytime." Catherine replied, eyeing over the jumble of items being packed away. When the last item had been returned to its place in her kit, the three of them began to head up out of the basement.

Exchanging a quick glance with Sara, Catherine nodded in understanding.

"You were going to MacGyver your way out. Good to see you had a plan," she commented in a light tone.

"You watched MacGyver, Cath?"

"Well sure Griss. I think every female who was over 12 at the time was watching that show," she said, exiting the stairway behind the others.

At his puzzled look, she continued.

"What? Richard Dean Anderson's hot!"

END

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**A/N 2:** Upon writing this it occurred to me I have a strong thing for older guys with greying hair… 


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